


The Last Magic (alternate POV)

by firephly



Category: The Secret of the Unicorn Queen - Josepha Sherman
Genre: Darian POV, Depressed Darian, End of Moonspell, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Journey Back to Campora, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-19 17:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22280863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firephly/pseuds/firephly
Summary: This ficlet is an alternate last chapter to the final book Moonspell, from Darian's point of view.Follow Darian on his journey back to Campora as he struggles with losing Sheila.
Relationships: Darian/Sheila McCarthy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	The Last Magic (alternate POV)

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic was originally written by me back in 2006. I've cleaned it up a bit now that the SUQ is a fandom here on AO3. (Thanks Selynne!)
> 
> The dialogue at the very end is directly from the original book (credit to author Gwen Hansen).
> 
> Enjoy!

Darian stared up at the enormous metal gate, never so happy to be back at Campora’s castle. He was relieved that no one had stopped him on his way through the city. He still wasn’t ready to talk about the journey to and from Ryudain. Illyria and the others, sensitive to his need for some time alone, had returned several weeks ahead, trusting him to make his way back in his own time.

Two of Laric’s guards greeted him cheerfully and ushered him inside. Darian took a deep breath as he walked across the courtyard and around the castle toward the hillside of roaming unicorns. He spotted Wildwing immediately and his throat caught.

~*~

The black stallion had been far too wild to ride home from Ryudain. While the other riders’ unicorns had settled down after the initial night of wild magic, Wildwing wouldn’t let Darian anywhere near him.

Losing Sheila and Wildwing in one night had been too much. He needed to be away from his sister’s concerned gaze. He needed to be away from all of the reminders of what he’d lost, at least for a little while. So, with Illyria’s blessing, he headed off to find some peace amidst the woods and the moonlight.

He knew that the solitude probably only enflamed his sense of loss, but at least he didn’t have to worry about others seeing him at night when he would let his grief roll down his cheeks in trickles of salty sorrow. Only the waning moon would witness his anguish. It seemed fitting seeing that her power had caused it.

He slowly made his way towards Campora, in no rush to see Wildwing reject him again. He dreamed of Sheila each night and awoke still feeling the press of her lips on his. He blamed himself for falling for her again, knowing that she would inevitably leave him.

For weeks he avoided any other people that crossed his path, stubbornly embracing his isolation. Until one night, as he approached the area where the Tomai lived, Darian caught site of Jeno and his father out hunting in the brush.

~*~

Darian made a point to make enough noise as he approached the two hunters so they wouldn’t be surprised by his presence. As soon as Jeno recognized Darian approaching, he raised a hand in greeting.

“Well if it isn’t the moon’s warrior,” Jeno called out, grinning widely.

Darian did his best to smile back and ambled toward the boy and his father.

“Beautiful day, eh?” His comment referenced much more than the weather. The last time he’d been near the Tomai village, their crops had been flooded, their animals slaughtered either by larger predators or as sacrifice, and their faith in the Lady of the Night had been tested to near the breaking point. Now that had all changed. Darian could see new crops poking out of the rich soil, and the sun warmed all it touched while a cool breeze brought fresh air from the north.

“Thank the Goddess,” Jeno’s father agreed.

“Father, this Darian, the one I told you about. Darian, this is my father, Phree.”

Phree gripped Darian’s hand and arm in a firm, yet friendly greeting.

“I was just passing through on my way back to Campora.”

“Where’s Sheila?” Jeno looked around trying to spy her in the tree line.

“She…” Darian didn’t know quite what to say. Then he remembered that Jeno had actually experienced her magic in the past. “She was in danger, and when she cast her spell of protection, it sent her all the way home.” He tried to keep a matter of fact tone. There was no need to bring his sadness upon others.

“She lives far away, doesn’t she?” Jeno looked at Darian sympathetically.

“Yes.”

“She’s the one who survived the cub scratches?” Phree looked at his son, who nodded. “Where are the rest of your people?”

“They headed home on a more direct route. In fact, they’re probably only a day or so outside of Campora at this point. I’m meeting up with them later.”

“So you’re traveling alone?”

“Yes…” Darian felt mildly hesitant to admit such a thing, seeing that the Tomai had locked him in the grain house the last time he visited. But in any case, he knew he could trust Jeno to help him escape if such a thing happened again.

“Why don’t you join us for tonight’s half-moon ceremony. The least we can do to repay you for stopping the rain is to fill your belly and give you a good night’s rest next to a warm hearth,“ Phree insisted.

“I didn’t stop the rain. I just accompanied the unicorns to where they needed to go.”

“Just the same, we are grateful that moon sent you to us, as a sign against spilling unicorn blood.”

Darian considered the offer. He _was_ hungry. Several weeks of living off fish and berries was wearing thin. And a night away from the chill of the autumn nights wouldn’t come amiss either.

“That sounds great. Thank you,” he accepted graciously.

With that settled, he walked with Jeno and his father back to the village. He was greeted with surprising enthusiasm. For as suspicious as these people were during their hardships, they were equally friendly during their new season of prosperity. Many of the young children stared in admiration, while some of the younger women tittered in small groups pointing at the scar on his arm.

Before he knew it, Darian found himself ushered inside a small hut by Jeno and introduced to an attractive older woman who shared Jeno’s eyes.

“This is my mother, Jahna.”

Darian nodded his head politely and smiled at the gentle woman. “I’m Darian. I don’t know if you remember me from the Prophecy of the Gods…”

Jeno’s mother’s laugh held the same gentle quality as her hazel eyes.

“Jeno hasn’t stopped talking about you since you allowed him to return to us.”

Darian reddened at the reference to keeping her son captive.

“Not all bad things I hope…”

“Oh, quite the contrary, actually. We’re going to have to watch him closely when you leave to make sure that he doesn’t follow you back to Campora.”

“Mother!” Jeno looked horrified at the very non-manly image of him tagging along his hero’s path.

Jahna made Darian comfortable, filling his belly with ale and bread until the chanting outside announced the start of the sunset feast. Jeno’s family joined in the chanting and the dancing around the long table piled high with delights. Darian followed suit, catching on quickly to the words and the steps. At first he felt silly hopping around the table and chanting at the top of his lungs. But soon enough he let go of his inhibitions and gave over to the energy of the group, the energy of the approaching night. Excitement bubbled up within him, making him giddy, as the villagers voices grew louder and louder, praising the Goddess Moon, until it seemed impossible to get any louder or more intense. The thrum pulsed through him. And then suddenly everyone froze, the last note echoing in the distance until there was only silence.

Darian could hear only his heart thumping in his chest as he stared at the others, and then at the feast before them. The moonlight caressed each morsel of food, every drop of drink. He could feel the night’s blessing descend upon the village.

The village’s priest raised his arms up towards the moon and began a prayer, thanking the Lady of the Night Skies for stopping the rains, for blessing them with budding crops, and for returning the soul of one of the villagers. When the prayer ended, the others joined the priest in one last brief chant. Then the formality ended, and the area surrounding the table began to bustle with people serving themselves food and drink, settling down in small groups to enjoy the meal. Darian joined Jeno’s family on a mat of woven leaves Jahna had carefully laid on the ground.

As they ate, Darian shared the story of his and Sheila’s journey to Ryudain. He described the battle with Mardock at the waterfall and the sudden disappearance of Sheila and Dr. Reit. Jahna met his sad eyes and offered him a look of sympathy.

“How far away does your Sheila live?” she asked.

“I’m not really sure,” he answered honestly. “I just know that she’s from another realm, and without her type of magic, they call science, there’s no way to get there.”

“Perhaps she’ll come back…”

“I don’t know. She can only use her science with the permission of Dr. Reit. Last time, he wouldn’t let her come back, and Sheila came without his approval. I doubt she’ll be able to fool him again.” But Darian held a secret hope that she would, that she would return. The corner of his mouth smiled as he remembered their last private moment together before they joined the others at their campfire.

“Well, if it’s meant to be, she will find her way back here,” Jahna said sagely.

They finished their meal and made their way toward the ceremonial platform. The other villagers also gathered around and began chanting the melody lead by the priest. Darian recognized it from the last ceremony he and Sheila had watched surreptitiously from the bushes. Thankfully, according to Jeno, they did not intend on making any animal sacrifices tonight.

Darian recognized Marta from Sheila’s picture. She stepped forward and prostrated herself on the ground, praising the moon’s generosity. Several other villagers joined her, grateful that their livestock survived the storms or happy to see the fresh green poking out of the ground from the ruined fields.

Soon the prophecies began. Various villagers stepped forward, offering their wisdom in strangely altered voices, neither feminine nor masculine, fascinatingly defying gender and age. Just as Darian assumed the prophecies were over, Jeno stepped forward again, his eyes distant. His head turned towards Darian, although his gaze looked right through the warrior.

“She _will_ return to you.”

For a moment, Darian frowned, annoyed with Jeno’s false attempt to make him feel better.

“Stop it.”

“She will fight by your side again, waging great battles against those who would seek to harm the unicorns.” The deep wizened voice belied Jeno’s youth. Jeno was not in control of the words coming out of his mouth.

Chills coursed over every inch of Darian’s body.

“When?” he whispered, trying to hold back the emotion that bubbled up inside him.

“Have faith in the power of the moon to bring you together again when the time is right.”

“But who’s going to try to harm the unicorns?” His voice grew louder, afraid for Wildwing and the others.

“Patience, warrior. You will have much time to prepare.”

Darian was about to protest when Jeno blinked and shook his head, confused.

“What just happened?”

“Another prophecy,” Jahna said, breathless, tugging her son back into the anonymity of the crowd.

Darian stared at the boy, wondering if he had imagined the other-worldliness of his tone. Perhaps Jeno was just trying to make him feel better. Then again, why mention battles and enemies of the unicorns if that was the case, he shook his head, confused.

“What did I say?” Jeno whispered to him as the priest chanted the closing words to the ceremony.

“You really don’t remember?” Darian challenged.

“No, why? What did I say?”

He projected nothing but sincerity. Darian sighed and told the boy about his predictions.

“Wow.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, that’s good news. Sort of…”

Darian stared Jeno down.

“Do you promise that you didn’t fake that prophecy?”

Jeno looked insulted.

“Hey, I wouldn’t do that to you.” Jeno’s face softened a little. “I know how much you care about Sheila.”

Darian looked away, embarrassed to have his feelings so apparent.

“I’d have to be blind not to see how much you liked each other. I mean, I don’t get it. Personally, I think girls are just trouble. But Sheila’s not like other girls.”

“No, she’s not.” Darian smiled whistfully.

~*~

The rest of his trip back to Campora passed much more quickly. No longer listlessly wandering, Darian traveled a direct route on the main roads, eager to return to his friends and family, and to Wildwing. Jeno had wanted to come with him, but Darian had convinced him to stay home with the promise that he would send an envoy back as soon as he reached the castle.

Now, as Darian stared at Wildwing for the first time in almost a month, he felt an unfamiliar sensation in his gut…fear. He dreaded the possibility that Wildwing would never allow him to get close or ride again.

The two watched each other intently for what seemed like ages. Darian slowly walked towards the black unicorn. Wildwing stood his ground, his sleek leg muscles flexing as he shifted his weight.

“Hey boy,” Darian called softly, taking his time approaching. “I missed you.”

Wildwing snorted and bobbed his head, but didn’t back away, even as Darian settled his hand on the unicorn’s neck, slowly stroking downward. In fact, much to Darian’s surprise Wildwing lowered his head and nuzzled him for a moment.

“He’s been moping around since we got back to Campora,” Illyria called out, walking towards the happy reunion.

Darian laughed for the first time since Sheila left, nuzzling Wildwing back, giddy with relief.

“Welcome home,” Illyria said and hugged him fiercely.

“It’s good to be home.”

“The others will be relieved to see you back safe and sound.” Illyria backed up and took stock of her brother, who seemed to have new life in his eyes since the moment they had parted in Ryudain. “How was your journey?”

The multiple meaning of her question was not lost on Darian.

“It started out a bit rough, but it all worked itself out.”

As sun began to set and the full moon rose in the sky, Darian told his sister about his experiences with the Tomai. As he gave Wildwing a well-received brushing down, he related the prophecy, along with the story of his original experience with the Tomai.

Illyria nodded, her face softening at the hope in her brother’s voice as he talked of Sheila returning some day.

“You love her, don’t you?”

Darian looked up at the moon and nodded.

“I can almost feel her here.”

Illyria opened her mouth to reply when a beam of moonlight surrounded them. As if she were standing right next to them, they heard Sheila’s voice loud and clear.

“Moon above, please call Illyria the Unicorn Queen to me,” her voice shook. “I only want to say good-bye properly, but please let me see her one more time.”

Illyria smiled.

“Good-bye? I never say good-bye to any of my riders. We are friends for all time, Sheila, never doubt it.”

“Are the unicorns okay now? Please tell Morning Star I miss her. I miss… you all,” her voice caught.

Darian’s eyes filled. Just hearing her voice filled him with happiness, to know that she was okay, to know that her magic could, in fact, bridge their worlds.

“They’re fine,” Illyria assured her. “Any you mustn’t be so sad. After all, you’ve summoned me. Don’t you know what that means?”

Darian put a hand on Illyria’s arm, interrupting her.

“What that means, Sheila, is that you’ve taken the magic with you.”

“Are you sure?” her voice trembled with hope.

Darian thought of Jeno’s second prophecy and smiled.

“As sure as the moon rules the night sky. I don’t know when or how, but you will find a way to reach us again. Of that, I have no doubt.”


End file.
